


The Chronicles of Nedroid

by Animation101



Category: Chronicles of Narnia - All Media Types, Nedroid (Webcomic)
Genre: Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-27
Updated: 2018-07-27
Packaged: 2019-06-17 07:08:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15455997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Animation101/pseuds/Animation101
Summary: The hilarious bear and bird duo star in their first fanfic (as far as I know). After purchasing a mysterious wardrobe, Beartato the bear-potato and Reginald the bird journey to the mystical land of Narnia. Tasked with stopping an evil witch who has brought about nuclear winter in a land populated by other talking animals, the duo must find the awesome Aslan. Filled with humor, action, and a lack of romance, Beartato sets out on his greatest adventure yet!





	The Chronicles of Nedroid

“All I’m saying, Beartato, is that there are only two things that matter in life.” Reginald “Danger” Safety said as he walked down the street with his friend Beartato. Beartato turned to face him and spoke in a type of voice that could be described if it were an auditory medium. 

 

“And that is?” “Being good at basketball and being handsome.” Reginald said, thinking with his ego, as always. Beartato rolled his eyes and proceeded to swallow his chocolate ice cream, scoop and cone, whole. That was a benefit to having your body be 90% face. The downside was drive-by plierings. Reginald had to spend 40 minutes trying to pry pliers out of Beartato’s eye socket. 

 

“No offense, Reginald. You’re not that good at basketball.” Beartato shrugged. Reginald turned to give Beartato a look of pure disgust. “Beartato, don’t be so deft!” (Reginald confuses vowels when offended.) “I am the greatest basketball player there is! Those chumps at the NPA just won’t let me join because I’m too good and would make everyone look bad by comparison!” 

 

Beartato put his hands on his hips (or the side of his face? The other downside to having your body be 90% face.) and declared. “Well, why don’t you show me?!” Reginald put his hands on his hips, confident. “Fine, I will!” 

 

Reginald was actually not confident at all. He knew he wasn’t that good at basketball, he didn’t know any of the terms or techniques, and he didn’t even play it all that often. He thought the game was called “Jumps ‘n Hoops!” for 14 years! Reginald needed an excuse to get Beartato off his back.

 

Reginald began to stutter and sweat (something birds can do, don’t look it up, trust me.) and said. “W-well, well, I would…” Beartato raised an eyebrow like a 2000’s cartoon character. Reginald coughed. “B-but, I don’t have a basketball.” He regained his confident composure “So, there!” 

 

Beartato pointed behind Reginald. “There’s a basketball right there!” Reginald’s pupils grew wide in fear, he turned around to face the orange menace. 

 

It was a garage sale at Old “Man” Robot’s house. Beartato ran up to the stand in front. “How much for the basketball, Mr. Robot?!” Old coughed and sputtered, his engines running and fumes. His auditory provider produced jargon that sort of sounded like. “Well, *cough* it’s-” 

 

Reginald managed to catch up with Beartato, cursing the bear/potato’s stubby, but quick legs. “Uh, we don’t want a basketball, we want…” Reginald looked around for something else that was being sold at the garage sale. His eyes darted past a green bucket, a fresh pizza, and some cherry Kool-Aid that had turned purple. 

 

His abnormally large eyes stopped at a majestic wardrobe with oaken wood. Carved into the side were mythical and woodland creatures alike. It was old, but felt like it had new life all the same.  

 

Reginald thought none of this and shouted. “WE’LL TAKE THE BIG BROWN DOOR!” The decrepit animatronic turned to face the wardrobe in the center of the lawn. He turned to face Reginald and Beartato, then the wardrobe, then the pair again, almost as if he were to give up his own child. 

 

The decaying automaton looked at the duo with his visual sensors, one functioning, the other bust and forced out. “Sorry, boys. *wheeze* The wardrobe is not for sale.” He coughed a few times more, Beartato patting his fan in the back, letting him release some extra air. 

 

“That’s part of the cursed objects line-up.” He pointed to a sign in the front of the lawn with his cane. “You have to purchase a regular item and then get a cursed object free.” 

 

Beartato and Reginald looked at one another and then back at Old Robot. Beartato, who was now on board for an opportunity to finally have a place to store his pink banana hats other than Reginald’s sock closet, picked a rose from a nearby bush and said. “We’ll take this and the wardrobe, please.” 

 

The mechanical man, not realizing the rose was not for sale, delicately put it in a hamburger gift bag, one might see at a child or Reginald’s birthday party. He then proceeded to quickly open the wardrobe and throw it in, before quickly shutting it again. “Take care now, boys! Don’t go fooling around with this oversized closet! It’s an antique!” The old robot stated as he shook his cane and went inside to watch his crime soap operas “Cereal Killer” and the like.  

 

Beartato and Reginald looked at one another, again. Reginald tapped his foot. “How are we going to get this big pile of junk home?” He gestured toward a lamp and Mr. Robot’s garbage from the week before which Reginald had reserved at yesterday’s garage sale. “Yeah!” Beatato said. “And how are we going to get the wardrobe home?” 

 

Beartato gasped. Reginald turned to face him. “Beartato. You’re not thinking of-” The bear potato interrupted him. “I’m afraid so, Reginald. It’s the only way.” Reginald gasped as well and took a step back. “Beartato, I can’t let you do this.” He turned around, not willing to even look his best friend in the eyes. Beartato said. “For the good of this wardrobe, we must.” 

 

Reginald held back tears and shouted. “Fine, Beartato! Do it! But, you’ll be breaking my heart.” Beartato looked sorrowful and looked down. He took out his phone and proceeded to call…

 

**LATER…**

 

“Bye, Police Chief!” Beartato waved good-bye to. The Police Chief tipped his cap and said “Anything for you boys!” as he drove away from from Beartato and Reginald lawn and the wardrobe now on it. 

 

Reginald had his arms crossed and had a rather sour expression on his face. As Beartato went to help push the wardrobe inside, he turned to Reginald and asked. “Why do you not like the chief of police, Reginald?” Reginald muttered as he went to go inside to watch play video games. “He’s got a better mustache and I feel like he flaunts it.” “Reginald, you don’t have a mustache.” “Not anymore.” 

 

**EVEN LATER…**

 

Beartato, no thanks to Reginald, had finally pushed the wardrobe into an acceptable position in the house. Reginald was slurping a banana smoothie and playing “Waste Time Simulator”. Beartato ran up to Reginald. “What do you want to do with our new wardrobe first?!”

 

Reginald moved his head to focus on the TV and not, Beartato. “I’m playing my game! And as we both know, it’s illegal to play video games in doorways!” Beartato snapped his fingers. “Darn! Well, what about a non-video game game?” 

Reginald shrugged his shoulders and let out a lazy “Eh…” Beartato was starting to get upset now. First, Reginald didn’t help with the wardrobe, and now, this! In relationation, Beartato started jumping up and down in front of the TV, making a noise similar to the sound heart when a hot dog is put in a bun. 

 

Reginald had to move even more to try and get his attention away from Beartato and back on to its rightful place on the TV screen. Reginald huffed. “Why don’t we play Hide and Seek?” Beartato finally landed after his 19th jump and said. “Ok! You hide!”

 

Not that of an intelligent bird, Reginald did what he was told and ran to hide, leaving his controller where it sat. Beartato looked for a good “seeking” place, Reginald always hid in the same place when they played in their house and so, the farther away Beartato started from, the more accomplished Reginald felt in choosing such a “unique” hiding spot. 

 

Beartato decided to go start his “seekage” in the wardrobe. It was big, walking through it and back again would probably give enough time for Reginald to congratulate himself. He opened the door and quickly popped in. 

 

The wardrobe, as most wardrobes are, was very congested and was filled with gaudy, dusty fur coats. Whether or not Mr. Robot had intended to give them the coats, they were itchy. Beartato was determined though as he kept walking. Satisfying the ego of a friend was a good idea in his eyes. 

 

So, Beartato trekked and trekked through the domain of the fur coats. At one point, he had stepped on the hamburger bag and rose by mistake. He quickly shoved the bag and flower in a shoe box on the ground. “That’s not going on  _ my _ permanent record.” 

 

Beartato looked up to the top of the wardrobe. How long had he been walking? Would he be trapped forever. Were fur coats the only future he had? Would he become one himself? Those questions, fortunately, weren’t answered as Beartato had walked into a snowy pine tree. 

 

“Mmmmffm!!!” Beartato shouted as best as he could, a branch stuck in his abnormally large mouth. He managed to force it out and tried his best to rip the pine needles off his tongue. He would need to buy a new tongue at the store later, he surmised. 

 

Beartato was now in a snow-covered paradise. Snowflakes gently falling from the sky on nearby trees. Beartato lit up like an appropriate Christmas tree. “A time machine!” Beartato ran threw the woodland area. “Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy! This is a time machine!” 

 

Then, he skidded to a stop. Reginald! He turned around, the wardrobe and the fur coats were all still there. The farther he walked, the longer it would take to find Reginald, giving him an opportunity to “win” the game. “Beartato, you are one good friend.” He said, proudly. 

 

He came to the decision that he would explore what he assumed was the first Ice Age until he couldn’t see the wardrobe and then turn back. Beartato continued to trek forward, his little feet making short pitter-patter in the snow, catching snowflakes to balance out the pine needle taste as he went. It truly was a beautiful-

 

TWANG! “Yowch!” Beartato had run into something! Beartato shook his body, since he had no neck for which a head was to shake upon. He plopped onto the cold ground, before looking up. It was a lampost! 

 

Beartato sat still on the ground and puzzled. Lampposts did not exist in the Ice Age, Reginald and him had watched all five Ice Age movies four times each and there were no appearances of any light fixtures of that kind. “If this isn’t the first Ice Age, then this must be…” The worse had dawned on Beartato. “Nuclear winter!” 

 

As if the sudden realization wasn’t enough, a sudden crunch of the snow behind was heard. Beartato did his best to turn his body around to face the culprit. It happened again and Beartato turned again. Around and around, both the unknown figure who sounded like a mintuare horse and Beartato went. Beartato, once again, had to sit on the soft snow to regain his composure. 

 

Beartato rocked back and forth. Had miniature horses taken over the world in the future and caused nuclear winter? Suddenly, the culprit turned the corner. 

 

It was a faun (or a satyr, they’re the same thing anyways, don’t get so picky) wearing a red scarf. The upper half of his body was human sans the two stubby horns poking out from the top of his head and the lower half that of a standing goat with black fur. (If you haven’t seen a goat that could stand up on their hind legs before, I suggest you stop reading and go try and find one. It better be with black fur, too.) Besides the scarf, he also had a white umbrella. Whether it was white from the snow or just naturally white was uncertain to the small bear. The other items in his hands were boxes wrapped with brown paper, almost like he had just come from a garage sale too. 

 

These thoughts went through Beartato’s mind phonomenly fast, for as soon as Beartato saw the faun, the faun saw him. The faun dropped his boxes and both did the sensible thing in a given situation when faced with a goat-man in nuclear winter or a small bear shaped like a vegetable. Scream.


End file.
